


Muscle Memory

by puremorning



Series: Muscle Memory [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Courier (Fallout), F/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puremorning/pseuds/puremorning
Summary: Raul finally escapes Black Mountain, for better or worse?(Rating may go up though unlikely, more tags to be added later)





	1. Just Six?

There’s an intruder in the compound. Poor bastard. He’s given up wondering if any of these unfortunate idiots heard him on the radio. Doesn’t matter even if they had, they never made it very far. He knows he should feel guilty leading all these fools to their death but he reasons with himself that if something was gonna kill them, why not let it be a horde of supermutants? A death’s a death in the end.  
This one’s tricky it would seem; he can hear Tabitha barking over the PA to find the human. Her ‘dumb-dumbs’ clearly not performing to her expectations. Just one then it would seem.  
There’s two shots now, followed by two screams. Mutie screams. He chuckles, as his days go this was a good one, this one’s managed to take some out! Show those fuckers!  
More shots now, more muties screaming, more of Tabitha yelling. Soon it’s just Tabitha. They couldn’t’ve actually taken them all out, could they? He’s afraid now, what if they DID actually come for him? What kind of person can take on a whole compound of muties and come out the other side? Tabitha falls silent now and the fear takes him. There’s two options for future from this point either: he’ll die in this room, no one to put him on the radio so no one will know he’s there or someone has come for him and that someone just killed a bunch of super mutants to get him so not the most well balanced individual. If he’s lucky it’s just a raider. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s unlucky. 

The thoughts are swirling round in his head as he hears the door click open. He’s truly not expecting what he sees. His eyes naturally looking up to the top of the door frame, when he’s met with empty space he drops his gaze and find the face of a young woman. She’s a good three feet shorter than any mutant. Her skin’s dark, covered in scars and grime, marked head to toe by the wastes. Head especially; there’s an ugly wound barely beginning to heal over her eye and a deep stitch running round and over her shaved head. She could’ve been pretty but this world doesn’t really allow pretty anymore. Her clothes are worn and ragged, mismatched pieces of armour attached over the top dwarfing her.  
Wide eyed she cocks her head. She’s been looking him over in silence for too long he has to say something, “Uh...how did you get in here?”  
“I read your diary,” she answers in a sing-song voice. It’s odd sounding with her gravelly voice damaged by the desert air it still has an edge of youth, barely.  
She lifts her chin towards him sharply, “You Raul?”  
“Raul Alfonso Tejada,” he offers a hand, “I’m the mechanic around here.”  
She just stares at his proffered hand until he awkwardly retracts it.  
“Name’s Six.” She’s looking around the room now.  
“Six?”  
“Yeah, Six.”  
“That’s it? Just Six?”  
Her eyes snap back to his, “don’t you think you got enough names for the both of us?” Her tone walking the line between playful and genuinely threatening.  
He raises his hands in mock surrender, “Okay, okay boss fair enough.”

She walks further into the room, followed closely by one of those K9 units he’d seen on on the news one time before the war.  
“Mechanic you said?”  
He sighs, “No boss… more of a prisoner really, of the crazy supermutant with the wig and glasses? Maybe you know her?”  
She ignores all of this, “Will you take a look at my gun?” She offers out a rusted pistol.  
He takes the weapon with a tired sigh, “y’know boss, I was kinda hoping that you were here to rescue me, but I guess I’m not a pretty enough damsel for that, huh?”  
This makes her laugh. The laugh unsettles him, flitting between a giggle and a cackle. It’s too genuine to be considered cruel, but too hysterical to be warm. It reminds him of a pot boiling over.

He looks over the gun, empties out the bullets, cocks and pulls, “Ah, I see what the problem is boss! It’s a piece of shit.”  
There’s the laugh again, wild as before. He oils it as best he can but truly, it is a piece of shit.  
He hands it back, “So, you gonna let me go? I don’t suppose you fought through all those supermutants and killed their leader just for me to clean your gun?”  
“Oh, I didn’t kill her.”  
He jumps to his feet, chair falling with a clatter, “you mean to tell me that we’re sat here in a knitting circle and she could just walk in any minute? Are you actually fucking insane?”  
“I mean… I’ve been told that but uh, she’s just gone.”  
“What do you mean gone? She wouldn’t go anywhere without that damn robot.”  
“I fixed it.”  
“You fixed it?”  
“Listen buddy, I’m getting real tired of this parrot routine, yeah I fixed the damn robot”  
He pauses, dumbfounded, “I couldn't even fix that thing and I’m-”  
“Not as good of a mechanic as you thought?” She laughs, eyebrows raised in mock accusation  
He sighs, “Yeah guess you're right boss, can’t even do that right.”  
“I fixed the bot, the mutie left so I figured I’d take myself a look around. Ended up findin’ you,” pushing herself up for a seat on his work bench she continues, “If I knew what a misery-guts you were going to be I wouldn’t have bothered!”  
“Didn’t say I wasn’t grateful, Boss. So, unless you want to prolong my captivity and psychological torment, the door is open…”  
She’s rooting through her pack as he says this and doesn’t answer for a while. He’s right. The door is open, he could just walk through it and be done with this place. Why isn’t he just going? He feels bound by this silence, rooted to the spot, his mind going into overdrive until he’s snapped out of it by: “Catch!”  
His hands fly up instinctively and in them lands a mutfruit. She pulls out her own and takes a large gnashing bite.  
Through the the mashed fruit in her mouth she says, “So”, after a few more violent chews she continues, “You’re welcome to go whenever you want, Raul.” He can see the torn up skin on above her eye better where she’s sat now, how did she do that, it looks fairly fresh.  
“Alrighty then, I’ll just head out. Alone. By myself. Into the dangerous wastes.” He sounds ridiculous and he knows it and now she’s staring and him, no, glaring at him.  
“I said you’re welcome to go but you never let me finish. Yeah, you could go back to whatever life you were living that ended up with you trapped here OR you could come along with me,” she shrugs, “but ‘s up to you.”  
He doesn’t know anything about her. She could be worse than this. She could also be better.  
He’s not made his decision when he hears himself say, “Anything’s better than staying here.”  
She jumps down from the bench, throwing the rest of the mutfruit down for her dog who laps it up happily, “Great!”, she looks genuinely pleased, this was probably a bad decision, he thinks.  
“I gotta place not too far from here just a day or so depending. We’ll head there get some rest. I can get you some proper gear there for ya, get ya all kitted out.”  
“Oh God,” he laments, really though, kitted out for what?  
“Bad stuff tend to follow me around prob’ly shoulda mentioned that, huh.”  
They step out of the prison block into the burning Mojave sun, his eyes slamming shut reflexively, being used to the dim indoor light he feels blinded, cowering as he tries to find his way back into the building he’d just escaped.  
“Here.” The pair of sunglasses he’d seen tucked into her vest are thrust into his hands, “seems like you need ‘em more than me.”  
“I don’t know what you expect me to do with these boss, on account of the fact I’ve got no ears and uh, no nose.”  
She rolls her eyes at him then and snatches them back. Pulling off the string that held a mug to the outside of her pack she shoves the mug into the bag and stands, “Hold ‘em up to ya face then”, she ties them tightly around his head, “Good?”  
“Just perfect, Boss.”  
“Good, lets get outta here.”  
With the sunglasses the brightness is just above tolerable as they stride out.  
“So, Boss, what’s the plan?”  
“Well Raul, I gotta see a man about a gun.”  
“Didn’t I just fix it?”  
“Okay smartass, I guess...I gotta see a man about a bullet.”


	2. Unkillable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossing the wastes Raul and Six have a deadly encounter.

“So what put you in the market for an old ghoul?” he asks her. He’s been talking about himself for the past hour as they walked, about his family, his ranch. Just the highlights mind, no need to bring up painful memories just yet. He wants to know more about his new… friend? Owner? He settles for ‘travelling companion’. She seemed genuinely interested in his stupid stories. He wonders how much she actually talks to people, she’s doesn’t seem great at it, a good listener though.  
“Lotta folks see someone like me, all little an’ shit and think I’m an easy target. Now while that’s not true I got sick an’ tired of assholes tryin’ it,” she taps a long red slash across her face, “So I figured an extra gun wouldn’t go amiss.” She sighs heavily now, “An’ I suppose the company is nice, Rex is great an’ all but he can’t talk y’know.”  
“So you were lonely?”  
“You could say that. You could also say nothing if I cut out your tongue.”  
He’s fairly certain she’s joking but why tempt fate?  
“Right you are boss.”  
The few minutes after her threat are silent before Raul asks, “what about the big one?”  
Her hand flies to her gun, “What big one?” She looks around for the danger.  
“Scar I mean,” he taps his own forehead.  
Fixing him with a stare, her mismatched eyes cold she drops her hand, “Oh. Yeah. Some dumb fuck in a dumb fuck suit shot me in the head, left me for dead in some podunk town. I want answers yeah, but mostly I just wanna kill the sumbitch”  
Her answers get vaguer after this; he asks her where she’s from and she simply replies, “not here.” “What were you doing before this?”, “Just stuff.”  
He decides to leave all that alone.

The stories resume, he’s telling one about the singing supermutant he met in Tucson (NOT Two Sun) when much to his chagrin she seems to latch onto that name, saying a few times quietly to herself. After that she seems to disappear into herself, stopping listening altogether and soon he stops talking. She doesn’t seem to notice. It grows dark and she doesn’t seem to notice that either.  
It’s only when he yawns loudly that she stops abruptly, Raul almost bumping straight into her. She looks around almost bewildered-like, turning to him.  
“It’s dark.”  
“Really? And here’s me thinking it was noon.”  
“You’re tired.”  
“Probably something to do with it being nighttime, as you’ve noticed, and me being old as hell.”  
“You should’ve told me,” she’s looking around again, “we’ll set up camp.”

After a few minutes of searching they’re building a fire in a small rocky enclave. He could've kept walking but goddamn if his old bones aren't grateful for the reprieve.  
Passing him a can of Cram she says, “Listen, I, uh, I’m used to bein’ on my own and I just go ‘til I can’t no more, see,” she’s staring into the fire, prodding it with a stick, “So you gotta tell me if you’re tired or whatever okay? We can stop or camp or somethin’,” She’s stopped prodding the fire and is just staring at her hands twisting them in her lap, “I know I ain’t like regular folk and-”  
This whole speech seems so uncomfortable for her that he has to stop her.  
“Boss don’t worry about it, I’ve been on this earth longer than anyone should’ve and believe me when I say I’ve met stranger than you. I’ve got a rotten face, you’re a touch weird, nobody’s perfect.”  
She laughs that wonky laugh and it’s like the fog’s lifted.  
“You sleep, I’ll keep watch.”

                           -

He wakes to gunfire, six shots ring out in quick succession. It takes him a moment to realise he’s not dreaming. Eyes adjusting to the pitch blackness he spots the dim green light coming from Six’s Pip-Boy. She’s moving quickly away from their camp to what he soon learns is a raider. He’s crawling on his stomach as fast as he can, seemingly away from Six, Rex snarling and pulling on his ankle. That’s when he spots two others lying just beyond the fire. Dead. His attention is turned back to the scene unfolding as he hears the remaining raider pleading with Six.  
She kicks him onto his back and drops down on top of him, pinning his arms with her knees. Raul’s eyes have adjusted fairly well to the darkness now and he spots the dark blood trailing behind the man. He sees Six pull the hunting knife from her waistband behind her. Her back is turned to him but he’s certain the knife is on the man's neck. He finally hears her speak.  
“Thought you could take me did you, asshole?” He hears more begging from the raider. Raul stands now, calling to her but she pays him no mind. He calls her louder.  
Ignoring him still she continues, “You're fucking pathetic, but I suppose it wasn’t your fault, how would you know?” She leans down, whispering in his ear so quietly that Raul can barely make it out.  
“ _I’m fucking unkillable._ ”  
She rips the knife across his throat.  
He gives a sickening gurgle and a thick spray of blood before he lies still and all Raul can hear is the insects and his own heartbeat.

He shouldn't be shocked by violence, not at his age. Especially not from her after the compound. But nonetheless he can’t help but feel a little shaken. Three raiders and she comes out on top? What the hell does she need him for? He’s still not sold on her company explanation. He was having trouble connecting the vulnerability she's shown before he'd slept with what he saw when her woke.

“I couldn't wake you, I had to let them think they had the up on me.” She walking back towards him, wiping her viscera covered knife on her shirt before tucking it back in her waistband.  
“Didn't look like you needed much help, Boss.”  
“One of ‘em clocked me pretty good,” she lifts her bloodied tank and as it turns out, some of the blood is hers as she reveals a large stab wound on her stomach.  
“Shit Six! Let me-” she cuts him off with a dismissive hand wave.  
“I’m fine, Just check them over for stuff while I find a stim, yeah?”  
He does as he’s told. Finding little more than he expects he surveys their injuries. Two of them look like they died pretty quick two shots apiece. One their both in his chest and the other with one to his chest and neck. Probably dead as soon as he woke up. The one with his throat cut’s different. He was probably running when she got him, a shot in his lower back and the other in his leg. That’s what got him on the ground. A single chamber to take out three assailants. It’s a very potent reminder to stay on her good side. Whichever side that is.

Returning to their camp she’s lay up against her pack. Stim already doing its work on her wound. She upends a bottle of clear alcohol, drinking down an almost absurd amount of it before offering it to him. He takes it, swigging a huge amount himself because honestly, he needs it.  
She motions for the bottle back, draining it before saying, “You can go back to sleep, chances are we ain’t gonna get hit twice in one night.”  
“Don’t think I’d sleep too good after that if I’m honest boss.”  
“Suit yourself. It’s almost dawn anyhow. we can head out soon.”

                           -

Dawn comes with little chatter. Fire extinguished and camp packed they head out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one, as always unbeta'd, comments and kudos hugely appreciated!


	3. Cigarettes & Alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six spills the beans.

It only takes an hour before they’re reaching their destination.   
“Why didn’t you tell me it was only this far? You think I’m so ancient I couldn’t’ve managed it?”  
She just shrugs, “You were tired, I didn't want to be a dick, y’know.”  
The great green dinosaur looms above them.  
“Novac, huh? Passed through here a while back. Though anyone who was here then probably moved upstairs years ago. ‘Cept maybe the girl, Jenny? Jenny-May?”  
“Jeanie-may? Yeah I know her, well, knew her. She was an asshole. Sold some pregnant lady to them Legion dicks. Got her killed in the end.” She laughs, “There’s a lesson in there I bet!”  
“Now what makes me think you had somethin’t do with that Boss?”  
“Can’t imagine where you’d get that idea,” she says with a wink.  
Taking him up to the second floor of the decrepit motel and producing an equally decrepit key she unlocks the door, it creaking open.  
“Make yourself at home,” she gestures to the room. A threadbare double bed sits in the middle of the dark room, an equally worn couch under the window and a small table tucked in by the far wall.   
“Bathroom’s through there,” she points before throwing her pack to the ground, “you can shower first.” She throws herself on the bed, her dog bounding after her.   
“There’s some spare stuff in the wardrobe. Wash your overalls n’ stick ‘em outside.”  
“I’m surprised you wash your stuff Boss.”  
“You could always not shower at all y’know.” A warning eyebrow is raised  
“Loud and clear boss.” He says opening the wardrobe.  
He sorts himself out a greying but clean t shirt and some jeans. Behind him he hears Six fussing the dog. Apparently he’s her special baby and a very good boy. She’s not been overly affectionate with the mutt the past couple of days but he turns to see her what can only be described as snuggling him.   
“You’ll catch fleas doing that.”  
She shoots him a Look before turning back to Rex, “Don’t listen to the nasty man, he’s just jealous.”  
He hears her cooing even after shutting the bathroom door.

The hot water against his skin is nothing short of a miracle. It's really been years since he’s had a proper shower. Muscles relax and he feels months and years wash off him. Washing his clothes probably added most of those years back on however, god that thing was filthy. He scrubs and scrubs until finally the water runs clear.

Carrying his newly scrubbed overalls back through the room, she’s counting caps. A LOT of caps.  
“Took you long enough. Givin’ me shit for not washin’ my shit then you take two years, typical.”  
“Boss I was a prisoner.”  
“And I don’t give a shit.” She chuckles. “Stick that on the balcony it’ll be dry by dark.”

She’s already in the bathroom when he reenters the room. Rex gives him a quizzical look, head cocked the side.  
“Good dog?” He tries. He’s rewarded with a happy bark and as he sits on the couch the dog joins him, placing his head in his lap. He gives him a testing scratch under his chin, Rex whining when he stops.   
“I guess you really are a good boy, huh?”  
It’s nice having a dog around again. It’s been a long time. He stopped after the third one. Too sad to see them go when you basically live forever. No dog, no friends. That's the way its been for most of his life now. Guess it’s different now. Better hopefully. Especially if this dog actually IS one of the K-9s from before the war. An immortal dog. He wishes that was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen. That's when he notices the bull painted on the side of his metal casing.  
“You’ve been so some interesting places huh boy?”   
He’s cooing at him just like Six was when he decides it’s naptime, snoring gently in his lap.  
-  
He’s still there almost dozing himself when the bathroom door swings open and she steps through, towelling her shorn head and discarding the towel on the floor. She’s completely nude save for a pair of ill fitting boxer shorts. Her breasts are small and pert. He hates that he noticed. She catches him looking.  
“What's the matter old man? Never seen tits before?” She opens the door to dry her washed clothes. Thank god because he had no idea what to say to that. He turns his attention back to Rex. Adamant not to look up until he was certain she was clothed.  
“Good job you looked away this time, if you looked any longer I’d’ve had t’ charge ya!”For who's is probably the very first time he’s actually grateful he’s a ghoul because god his face is hot.  
In his peripheries he sees her crouched in front of the wardrobe, her spine popping out far too noticeably. She dresses in another tank top, this one without a stab mark and pulls on some jeans. Finally he can stop staring at the brain floating on Rex’s head.  
She crosses the room to her pack, her back to him, and starts rooting around deep in the bag. She looks so much smaller without the armour and the gear. He’s wondering how she survived out here alone when he remembers the raider...and the blood. She pulls out a battered pack of cigarettes, her prize, and taps one out with the palm of her hand plopping herself down on the mattress as it huffs out a groan. She grunts at him, gesturing the pack and he opens his hands to catch in response. Lighting her cigarette she reclines on the bed tossing him an engraved zippo. She doesn’t just look smaller she looks younger. At the compound he put her in her thirties but now, cleansed of all the grime and wasteland dust she looks barely twenty-five. The dust had made her skin seem paler, now he could see how rich it was, like polished wood, deep with a warm redness to it.   
“Quit starin’”. He hadn’t even realised he was. What’s she doing out here?   
“Boss, I’m sorry I think just gotta ask… how OLD are you?”  
She doesn’t answer. Dragging on her cigarette three more times until the filter is just a stub between her fingers that she drops into an empty sarsaparilla bottle before gesturing to the pack. The silence is so uncomfortable as he passes them accompanied by the lighter that he almost wishes she’d left him on the mountain. Silences like this seem to be her speciality. Lighting a fresh cigarette she takes a heady drag and exhales with a sigh, “Guess I can’t get outta that one, huh?” She taps the ash off with her index finger. As Raul opens his mouth she raises a warning hand, “just listen okay?”  
Another long drag, “I trust you. I dunno why and I dunno if that’s a smart move but my gut is tellin’ me you’re good and my gut’s all I got. But so help me god if you screw me over you’re gonna spend the rest of your days eatin’ through a straw, understand?”   
The raider flashes through his mind again, “Oh I understand”.  
Satisfied, she breaks the hawk-like eye contact she’s been maintaining and her gaze drops to the cigarette clasped between her fingers, a shyness reminiscent of the campfire overcoming her.   
Six opens her mouth then closes it again, repeating this a few times before finally finding the words; “I got shot. That you know already. And it didn’t kill me but uh, it might as well’ve. I uh”, she takes a steadying drag, “I don’t remember anything from my life before Goodsprings. I don't know my mother is, my father, why I’m here, where I came from or why that fucker thought it was a good idea to put a bullet in my brain.” She’s still staring downwards but the shyness is gone, she’s almost shaking with pure rage, “Hell, I didn’t even know my fuckin’ name till I saw it written down!” Her head whips up and she’s looking at him again. Her eyes are wet, is she crying? He hadn’t expected this, he doesn’t know what to do so instead he just offers, “I’m sorry.”  
“Why you have somethin’ t’ do with it?” Thank god she’s smiling again.  
“Yeah boss I set it up from my cell on top of a mountain for some asshole in a suit to fire his BB at you”. This earns him a proper chuckle. 

The other cigarette joins the first in the bottle. She reaches under the bed, pulling out a bottle of gin. Further exploration nets her two ornately carved lowball glasses, crystal and worth a fortune before the war. He remembers his grandmother having a set similar ‘Only for special occasions’. He’s snapped out of his daydream when he sees just how high she’s filled them.  
“You thirsty?”  
“I’ve had a tough few days alright? First, I valiantly rescue some smartass ghoul and now said ghoul knows my darkest secrets, I think I deserve a drink, asshole”. She picks up her glass and holds it aloft, raising a thick eyebrow.  
“What’re we toasting then boss?”  
“Me, for saving your life”.  
“Good enough for me”, they clink their glasses and Six throws back her head taking the gin with it.

-

A few more ‘shots’ and cigarettes later, sat together ‘round the small table, Raul has the courage to ask, “So, the robot”  
“Oh yeah”, she draws out the yeah, wavering the tone, “I figured I needed some help out here yeah? So I saw the bot and was like, ‘that thing’s got a zapper on it!’ and like I could ask it questions about stuff and it wouldn’t get all suspicious like. So I fixed it up and then the bot kept askin ‘ about Tabitha so I says ‘alright little buddy take me to her’ so I follow the bot to that broadcastin’ room and that damn dolled up mutie opens the door fuckin’ says thank you to me and pisses off with MY damn robot!”  
He stares at her open mouthed as a laugh builds from what feels like his boots and before long he’s doubled over and hooting. She’s pestering him, “What is it? What? What?”  
He takes a few deep breaths before finally, “I meant how did you fix the thing, not why!”  
She kicks him playfully in the shin, “That’s not even funny and you know it!”   
“Yeah but boss: I’m drunk”, he says with a comic shrug.  
“Yeah me too”, she giggles and starts to refill the glasses.  
“So? How did you do it?  
Six smacks the palm of her hand against her forehead, “I forgot about that! Essentially, I dunno. I just sort of looked at the thing and my hands did the rest.”  
“So just like magic?”  
“What’s magic?” She looks at him with big inquisitive eyes.  
“You don’t know what ma-”, he sees her shiteating grin, “Okay, very funny boss.”  
The manic laugh returns and he decides he likes it, “No, not magic, I think it’s just all stored up in my brain from before so like, I can do it I just can’t think about it y’know?”  
“Sounds like magic to me.”  
“Yeah maybe”.  
They finish the bottle with Raul’s story of how he and his brother tricked their sister into cursing in front of their mom that ended in them sleeping in the barn.  
“Speaking of,” Six yawns, “I’m gonna hit the hay.”  
“Good plan boss,” He crosses to the couch and tries to raise Rex as what turns out to be the the third pack of cigarettes hits him on the back of the head.  
“Leave my dog alone, asshole! Sleep in the bed,” she gestures with the bottle she just fruitlessly tired to extract some final drops from.  
“Where are you gonna sleep then?”  
Six looks around her as if to say ‘did you just hear that?’ to invisible people surrounding her, “Um, in the bed? I’ll keep my hands to myself I promise”.  
“That’s not what I’m worried about”, that’s definitely not what he’s worried about, “You don’t mind sharing a bed with a ghoul?”  
“So long as you don’t go feral in your sleep.”  
“No promises, boss”.  
She chuckles as they clamber onto the ancient mattress that protests under their weight.   
They lie in silence for a few minutes the room spinning, before Six breaks.  
“It’s Marisol by the way.”  
“Huh?”  
“My name, it’s Marisol Guerrero. I saw it on some document I got from the Mojave Express. The doc who woke me up, he asked me my name and I just asked for my stuff. Six was the first thing I saw on the page that jumped out at me, y’know,” she tells the darkness, “I think Six is better for me now. I uh, I get the feeling that me and Marisol ain’t the same person no more.”  
The silence resumes. So much trust placed in him. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t yet know how to honour that, but he sure wants to find out. Eventually he says simply, “Goodnight, Six.”  
“Goodnight, Raul,” She murmurs.  
Before long sleep takes them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this far, thank you! This is the first in my canon and there will be more! Id love to hear what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos very appreciated! I'm still new at this so I'd love any tips or anything!  
> Un-beta'd so it's almost definitely riddled with errors! I've got the final chapter figured out it's just the one in between that's being a bit of a bastard but it's coming!


End file.
